Spring must be in the air today.
I've found myself doing some fairly detailed cleaning, despite my backache. It's taken me half a day to clean one side of the kitchen, and I've had to restrain myself from going the whole hog. I've been at it pretty much non stop, just having a rest now, and I've no idea where this compulsion comes from. It's the same every year. The first time my body smells spring, I get an irrational urge to clean.
I'm trying to contain it to a manageable area, and it's working. The fact that I'm sitting down now suggests that the steam is running out of my engine.
I've rearranged various appliances, and I imagine DH will find it a bit unsettling next time he reaches for the air fryer or the pressure cooker.
I've got to complete the breakfast bar, and then I can stop.
I bought a new bin (I live life in the fast lane!) which arrived yesterday. There was nothing wrong with the existing bin, and I wouldn't have bought this one if it hadn't been on sale at a bargain price. It's ore or less the same bin as I have now, really, except it has a butterfly lid (instead of one lid) and it opens from the short side rather than the long side. And the compartments are equally split, instead of 1/3rd : 2/3rd. I suspect that, I may miss that 2/3rd bit,
Anyway, the existing bin has now gone on holiday to the summerhouse, where it's dual inners will be very useful. Much better than the single chamber bin that was there before. The ex-summerhouse bin has now gone to the utility room to store the sunflower seeds and corn, and that bin has gone into MyShed where I will attempt to replace one of the ancient plastic Addis bins I got as far as putting the bin in MyShed and then I just closed the shed door. Every metal bin that has ever gone into MyShed has been to replace one of the ancient Addis plastic bins.
But the ancient Addis plastic bins are still there. One is a vile tan colour, the other a lurid greeny bluey turquoisey colour. They are from the days when Addis bins were usually grey or white or some other colourless colour. They also represent a time when I'd change colours chemes in my home on a whim and without a second thought.
I know I should just.... dispose..... of them, but I can't bring myself to do it.
Sometimes, the pull of the Come In Handy gene is strong in me, despite my efforts to overcome it.
Or maybe it's just nostalgia.
